


HAMILTALIA: An American Story

by Unravel27



Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: American Revolution, Canon Era, Character Death, Cheating, Davie is philip hamilton, Duelling, F/M, Gen, Hamilton - Freeform, Hamilton References, IF YOU SEEN/LISTENED TO HAMLET YOU KNOW WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT, ITS A HAMILTON AU, LETS DO, Like no fucking joke guys, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Mildly Dubious Consent, NO CAN STOP ME, SHIT IS GOING TO GO DOWN, Spain is going to have freckles, With guns not cards, and it's going to be great, prepare for more tears everyone, shit is going to hit the fan, some gay in here, this is completely an au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-07-20 00:33:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7383775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unravel27/pseuds/Unravel27
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred F. Hamilton was just like his country. He was young, scrappy, and hungry and he was not throwing away his shot!</p><p>Well in summary, Hamilton AU for us dear Hamiltalians.</p><p>(Discontinued)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Alfred Franklin Hamilton

**Author's Note:**

> "How does a Bastard, orphan, son of a whore, and a Scotsman, dropped in the middle of a forgotten spot in Caribbean, by providence, impoverished, in squalor, grow up to be a hero and a scholar?"  
> -Song: Alexander Hamilton
> 
> Hamilton AU: HAMILTALIA 
> 
> Character(s) in this chapter: 
> 
> America: Alfred F. Hamilton  
> Fem!America: Amelia (Faucette) Hamilton  
> Scotland: Allistor Hamilton  
> 2P!America: Allen Allistor Hamilton

The only good thing Alfred could remember about his life back in the West Indies, was his mother and his brother. Alfred Franklin Hamilton remembers his life back on St. Croix clearly; clear ocean waters, the bitter smell of salt water wafting through the island, the chatter of the towns people on the harbor, and the exponential amount of slaves that out massed the whites on the island.

His childhood was different from every other white child on the island. His mother was labeled a whore, while he and his brother, Allen, were both labeled bastard children considering their mother was never able to marry their father.

Alfred’s mother, Amelia Faucette, was married to an abusive man before she met Allistor Hamilton. Amelia and her husband only produced one child together, their marriage was nothing more than to produce a child and for Amelia’s husband to use the money from her inheritance on the sugar cane business in St. Croix. As his investment in sugar cane began to decline, their marriage became a nightmare. At one point, because she refused to have sex with him and would show no love to a man who beat her, her husband accused her of adultery and had her thrown in jail for an undetermined amount of time.

Once she was released from prison for a crime she never committed, Amelia decided she had enough of her husband’s ways, and ran away from St. Croix, leaving behind her husband and child. She stowed away on a ship headed for St. Kitts, and that’s where she met the love of her life.

Allistor Hamilton was a Scotsman who came to St. Kitts in hope of catching some revenue in the sugar cane business. However, he was late to the game of the sugar cane and had to do menial work to get by on the island. This is where he met Amelia Faucette. Both were doing menial jobs around the island to make ends meet when they crossed each other’s paths.

“Your beauty is astounding, my dearest.” Allistor told Amelia.

“You’re quite the handsome man, Mr. Hamilton.” Amelia responded.

From that moment began the Faucette-Hamilton affair. Amelia disregarded the fact she was still legally married to her husband back on St. Croix, and pursued a relationship with Allistor to her hearts content. Their amour produced them two children in the years following: Allen Allistor Hamilton and our future hero/scholar, Alfred Franklin Hamilton.

On St. Kitts, Amelia was known as Amelia Hamilton, the wife to Allistor Hamilton and no one thought otherwise. While they never did get married, the children they had were seen as legitimate, and not the bastards they were soon going to be called as.

The Hamilton family was very poor, so the Hamilton boys really had no means for education. Luckily, a Jewish school had been on the island, and the boys were able to get a bit of the education that would help them later in life. This especially went for out dear Alfred Hamilton. Alfred devoured every book he came into sight of; he read tombs of books, and reiterated them and studied non-stop. He learned old Hebrew under this tutelage and French from the inhabitants of the island, as well as a bit of Spanish. Life was okay for the Hamilton family.

At least until Amelia’s husband demanded she come back to St. Croix to have their marriage fully nulled. Amelia was ecstatic that she may finally be free from her marriage to be able to marry her love. She, Allistor and the children all traveled to St. Croix but unfortunately the other three Hamilton’s did not know why the sudden change in location.

At the trial, Amelia had officially been divorced from her nasty husband but was forbidden by the church and law to ever get married again. Any children she would have or had would be considered illegitimate. She came back to her family in tears and told Allistor what had happened, he was furious. Not at the judgement, no, but at the fact Amelia had never told him she was married while they were together. To add insult to injury, Allistor wasn't even able to marry Amelia even if he wanted to. So at the age of 10, Alfred Hamilton watched his father leave their tiny family, never to return again.

Life on the island of St. Croix got a bit worse.

With Allistor out of the picture, it was even harder for Amelia to provide for both of her children. She encouraged Allen, who was 12 around that time, to look for a job while she worked menial jobs around the island, just like she did when they lived in St. Kitts. Money came in slowly, but Alfred continuously read all the books that he had took from their old home, and frequently would be reading an encyclopedia his father had left with them when he bolted out of his life. Despite his education being put on a stagnant hold, our dear Alfred continued to read whatever he could get his tiny hands on.

Yet again, life took a turn for the worst for the Hamilton family.

At 12, Alfred and Amelia had both contracted some kind of sickness that left them bedridden. Eventually, Alfred got better but as he got better his mother’s health began to decline even further. In a sad turn of events, both Hamilton boys watched their mother die with a smile on her lips. The boys were left without a father, a mother, and a source of income. The town’s people wondered what to do with the boys after the funeral of Amelia Hamilton. They were eventually placed to live with their cousin, but had to leave again when their cousin committed suicide not even a year later. With no money or family, the two boys were destitute orphans.

Eventually, Alfred found a job being a clerk for a mercantile house. He used his French to communicate with foreigners, who luckily enough were mainly French, English, or Scottish. He became friends with some of the rich town’s folk and re-began his thirst of knowledge with every book, gazette, and essay that so happened to be placed in his hands. Even though he was only fifteen years old, Alfred had a gift for mathematics and business; he could keep excellent expense and profit ledgers, could communicate with local authorities and sea captains, and could write extremely well for his age. His writing was so good, in fact, he even published many of his letters and a handful poems in the local newspaper.

However, our dear Alfred had a hunger to explore the world, more specifically, to travel to the 13 colonies and get an even higher education. Many people were behind this notion for our dear Hamilton. Yet, it wasn’t until a dreadful hurricane hit that Hamilton was able to even get out of the Caribbean. In the wake of the Hurricane that hit the West Indies, Hamilton wrote a poem expressing the utter tragedy that the hurricane left when it hit the tiny island. People were so impressed by his words, and other poems, the town’s people took up a collection to send him to the main land: America.

With his goal of wanting to attend college, and start a new life in the colonies, Alfred took his shot, and began his leave from St. Croix. In October of 1772, Hamilton left St. Croix for New York. As he boarded the ship, he felt a sudden feel of release and had the desire to never return to St. Croix or any other part of the Caribbean ever again. Once he landed in New York, he quickly made the United States his new home.


	2. KIKU BURR SIR

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred F. Hamilton was just like his country. He was young, scrappy, and hungry, and he was not throwing away his shot! 
> 
> Hamilton AU
> 
> "Pardon me, are you Aaron Burr, sir?" / "That depends. Who's asking?" / "Oh, well, sure, sir, I'm Alexander Hamilton--"  
> -Song: Aaron Burr sir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hamilton AU: Hamiltalia
> 
> Characters in this chapter: 
> 
> America: Alfred F. Hamilton  
> Japan: Kiku Burr (sir)  
> Spain: Antonio Laurens  
> France: Francis Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier de LaFayette (or just Lafayette)  
> Prussia: Gilbert Mulligan
> 
> A/N: Each character is kind of OoC cause I'm trying to mix the characters personality from Hetalia with Hamilton. Other than that, I MADE SPAIN HAVE FRECKLES CAUSE WHY THE FUKC NOT??? Also, I refer to the characters both by their fist and last name, just to clear that up. Alrighty then, KTHXBYE. 
> 
> Not Beta read.

**1776: New York City**

 

Alfred Hamilton was making his way through a crowd of people, his thoughts predominately on a fellow named Kiku Burr who was renowned at Princeton college for graduating in two years. Kiku was such an inspiration to Princeton college, his name was still thrown around the campus, not that Alfred would know about what was happening in Princeton, since they rejected his request for the large class work load he wanted so he too could graduate in two years just like Kiku Burr did. However, despite him not getting into Princeton, he was well on his way to King’s college.

But at the moment, our dear Hamilton was on a search for Kiku Burr to ask him a few questions, and his opinions on some things. Yet, the search would be tedious considering the only facts given to Alfred about what Burr looked like was black hair, pale, and small. Alfred groaned when he heard this. How was he to find a man who had those characteristics when a third of American men had those same traits?

He walked through the town square, his gaze traveling over the busy people, when he spotted a fellow with short black hair. As he got closer he noticed the man was also quite small and was paler than the average man. The man was on his way to one of the well-known taverns in the city. Taking a shot, he got closer to the man and tapped his shoulder. He turned around and looked at Alfred with a confused expression.

“Pardon me, but are you Kiku Burr, sir?” Alfred asked hesitantly.

The male looked tooken aback. “That honestly depends on who’s asking?” he said, his arms crossed and head tilted to the side, eyebrow raised.

“Oh, well, sure, sir, I’m Alfred Hamilton, I’m at your service, sir. I’ve actually been looking all over town for you—”

Burr huffed a laughed and uncrossed his arms, “I’m getting a bit nervous,”  

“Sir, I heard your name at Princeton,”

“Of course,” Burr murmured, a hint of a smile on his face.

“Yeah, so I was seeking an accelerated course of study when I got sorta out of sort with a friend of yours?” Alfred said, an apologetic expression morphed on his face. “I may have punched him. I don’t completely remember, it’s all really a blur, sir. I think he handled the financials?”

“You punched the bursar?” Kiku sputtered in surprise.

“Yes.  I, uh, wanted to do what you did, graduate college in two years but then join the revolution. He looked at me like I was stupid. I’m NOT stupid.” Alfred explained. “But never mind that, the important thing I want to know is, how’d you do it, how did you graduate so fast?”

Kiku looked uncomfortable for a moment before answering. “It was what my parent’s wish before they died.”

“You’re an orphan? Of course! I’m also an orphan. Man, Burr, I wish there was a war then we could prove to everybody that we’re worth more than anyone bargained for!” Alfred exclaimed with excitement, and with a hunger in his eyes. Kiku Burr stared at Alfred for a moment before letting a low chuckle resound.

“Hamilton-san, was it?” Alfred nodded. “Can I buy you a drink?”

Alfred was at a loss of words for a split second, before a huge, yet sheepish smile spread across his lips.

“Actually, that would be super cool of you.”

Kiku responded with a quick smile and began to lead Alfred towards the smallish tavern that was by the edge of the town square. It was a quaint place; one the British troops didn’t go into often for some reason.

“Excellent, and Hamilton-san, while we’re talking let me offer you some free, very helpful advice: Talk less—”

“What?” Alfred blinked in surprise, looking at Burr with the most confused expression. Kiku hummed and opened the tavern door for Alfred to enter through.

“Smile more. Don’t let anyone know what you’re against or what you’re for, even now during our country’s very revolution against the British empire.”  

“You…can’t be serious, right?” Alfred walked through the door and looked behind him to stare at Burr bewildered. Kiku looked Alfred dead in the eyes.

“You do want to get ahead?”

“Yes,”

“Fools who run their mouths wind up dead, Hamilton-san.”

Alfred stayed silent and followed behind his friend(?) and sat next to Burr next to the bar. Burr ordered two things of Samuel Adams beer, and the two sat in almost complete silence until someone yelled, “What time is it?”

“Show time!”

“…Like I said.” Kiku murmured, shooting the small group of men a distasteful look.

Alfred turned around in his seat and spotted three men sitting at a nearby table, with pints of beer in their hands. They were hanging off of each other, and laughing obnoxiously. Alfred watched them with curiosity. He heard part of their conversations.

“Those redcoats wouldn’t dare want to fight with me, amigos! Cause I would pop!” Here the freckled man made a gesture with his hands as though it was a musket. “--them till we are free!”  

“Oui, oui, mon ami Antonio Laurens.” The blonde next to him spoke with happy laughter. “I didn’t come from France just to say bonsoir. I came here to tell that stuffy king of Britain, casse toi!”

“It’s justified, my dear Lafayette!”

“Please call me Francis, Laurens.”

Alfred jumped in his seat when the white hair guy in the group slammed his hands against the table with a wicked grin splayed across his lips. He looked almost as tipsy as the other two. He stood up from his chair and chugged his beer. He set it down and then pulled the other two into an embrace.

“Kesesesese! The awesome Gilbert Mulligan is up in it, loving it!” the man, Gilbert laughed drunkenly. “Lock up your daughters and horses, guys, it’s hard to fuck over four sets of corsets.”

The blond man, Francis? Alfred was trying his hardest to remember these names. Anyway, Francis looked at Gilbert Mulligan with the most interesting expression. It was like he was confused and horrified all jumbled up into one. Alfred stifled a giggle at the French man. Burr was looking at the group with clear disdain. It made out dear Hamilton laugh even harder.

“Wow,” Francis gaped.

Luckily, Laurens jumped into to clear the situation. “Hahaha, mis amigos, no more talking about…uh sex, yeah?” He grabbed an absent glass of beer and thrusted it into Gilbert’s hand. Gilbert just laughed and drank the cup to his heart’s content. Antonio and Francis gave each other a relieved look, and smiled.

Kiku tried to give a discreet scoff at the three men, but Lauren’s looked up when he heard the sound and frowned at Kiku before walking up to them with a mischievous grin on his lips. The other two quickly followed after the revolutionary, and gain mischief ridden grins as well.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the prodigy of Princeton college?” Antonio said.

“What’s his face?” Gilbert slurred lightly. “Kiku Burr?”

“Oui, Gil. I do believe that was his name.” Francis quipped in.

“So Burr, let’s hear some fresh knowledge from that collegian brain, ne? I would love to hear your thoughts on the revolución.” Antonio edged on, a sardonic tone in his voice. Alfred looked back and forth between the two, almost seeing little sparks of lightening.  

Alfred watched as Kiku rolled his eyes, and turned slightly in his seat to face the trio. He looked at the freckled face man, and said, “My thoughts and proceedings on the revolution are of my own opinion, Laurens-san. You may stand for this cause, but I will sit, and we shall see where we end up.”

Antonio wasn’t satisfied. “Burr, the revolution is imminent. People are going to want to hear what you have to say. Why not now? What are you stalling for, Burr?”

Alfred looked down at his cup as silence consumed their little group. He sought out Burr in the hope that he could give him some advice to help him graduate college a bit faster. However, Burr was being super wishy-washy. He talked like he had no personal side in the revolution. This was their country they were talking about, for Christ’s sake! You’re either for or against the revolution, and from what Burr was saying, he agreed with the efforts but wanted to wait out and see how it goes. This notion did not sit well with Alfred.

Alfred set down his cup with a small clank, and looked at Burr with searching eyes.

“If you stand for nothing Burr, what will you fall for?” It was so soft; you almost would have missed it. Burr looked at Alfred with wide eyes, mouth almost agape at the forward question. Their three other companions snapped their heads to Alfred the moment he opened his mouth, and were looking at him with raised eyebrows.

“Ooh, who are you?” Laurens spoke, his green eyes aflame. Francis repeated the question, in pure curiosity, while Gilbert Mulligan reiterated it in aggressive interest. Alfred blinked multiple times at the sudden intensity of the three men.   

“Who’re you, kid?” Gilbert Mulligan jeered. “You’re hanging out with Burr. I bet you practically ate up everything he said. What are you going to do?”

Alfred furrowed his brows, and frowned at the taller man, clenching his fist. He looked at them with determination in his eyes.

Hamilton spoke the first thing on his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Mon ami: my friend  
> Bonsoir: Good evening(???)  
> Casse Toi: Fuck you  
> Oui: Yes  
> Amigos: Friends  
> Mis Amigos: my friends  
> Revolución: Revolution
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the chapter. I'm currently working My Shot and hopefully should post the chapter up soon. Have a great day/night/whatever!


	3. My Shot & The story of Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I AM NOT THROWING AWAY MY SHOT!"  
> -My Shot, Hamilton
> 
> "Raise a glass to freedom,"  
> -The Story of Tonight, Hamilton

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to chapter 3! 
> 
> Sorry this took a long time. I have no excuse for the long wait but, here's the next chapter! 
> 
> Also, just a warning: this is where the Hetalia's Lams starts, and by "lams" I mean some Alfred/Antonio since they are Hamilton/Laurens. (((It's going to be hinted at continuously throughout the first Act)))
> 
> Not Beta'd btw. Sorry for any grammatical mistakes.

“I’m not throwing away my shot!” Alfred declared.The three men looked momentarily stunned, then grinned at Alfred. They sat back down in their seats at their table, glasses of beer in their hands, waiting for Alfred to speak. 

 

“What do you mean by that?” Antonio asked. 

 

“I’m not…” Alfred faltered for a second. “I’m not throwing away my shot. I’m going to make it here in New York, get my scholarship to King's college, and I’m going to amaze people. I mean, while it’s not the most sharpest thing, I have my brains, and I will holler just to be heard with every word I spit cause I drop knowledge!”  

 

Francis smiled broadly at this, and raised his glass in the air in agreeance. Gilbert Mulligan clapped his hands loudly, and leaned back in his chair, doing his signature laugh. Antonio’s green eyes sparked with interest and he watched Alfred with new fascination, his eyebrows raised. 

 

“I’m a diamond in the rough, a shiny piece of coal, and all I’m trying to do is reach my goals, with my power of speech, which by the way, is impeachable!” Alfred spoke, confidence building with every word he spoke. The three revolutionaries seemed to be enjoying it. They waved their hands in encouragement for him to keep speaking. “I’m only nineteen but my mind is older, and you know, these New York city streets get colder by the second, and endlessly, I shoulder every burden, every disadvantage, but I’m learning to manage this without a gun to brandish in the streets I walk on, famished. And another thing! The colonies: we are meant to be a colony that runs independently, but meanwhile, Britain is shitting on us. Essentially, they tax us relentlessly, and then King George runs around spending money on frivolous things. If I am to be completely honest, the king is never going to set us people, his descendants, free! So there is guaranteed going to be a revolution in this century.” 

 

“Holy shit…” Antonio breathed. Alfred beamed at the freckled man, and walked to the odd group. Francis came behind Hamilton and patted his shoulder, as Alfred sat down with them. Antonio scrambled around the table and sat next to Alfred, ready for the teen to continue speaking. 

 

“Go on, mon ami.” Francis encouraged.

 

Alfred cleared his throat.“I will lay down my life if it sets us free, and everyone will eventually see my ascendancy. I’m just like my country, I’m young, scrappy and hungry, and I’m not throwing away my shot.” Alfred looked around the table meeting everyone’s gaze at least once, before saying, “It’s time to take a shot,” and downed the nearest pint of beer. 

 

The other three men rallied, taking their own beer and drinking it like a shot of whiskey. Francis abruptly stood up from his chair and clambered on top of it, teetering dangerously so. 

 

“I dream of life without the monarchy,” the blonde began, sighing wistfully. “The unrest in France will lead to ‘onarchy? Wait, how you say? Oh, anarchy!” Everyone laughed as did Francis. “When I join the battle I will make the other side panicky, with my shot.”  

 

They cheered. As Francis sat down, Gilbert shot up and jumped on the table, crouching in front of them. 

 

“Kesesese, the awesome me is a tailor’s apprentice, and I’m joining the American rebellion cause I know it’s my chance to be even more awesome! I’m done sewing’ pants, boys! This is my shot.” Gilbert said. His large grin on his face spoke thousands of words, and Alfred could feel his new companions emotions. He grew excited with every proclamation from his friends. Hamilton looked at Antonio, who had just returned with a new pint of beer in his hands, his face steeled with determination. They locked eyes for a moment, Antonio winked quickly at Alfred, and patted the blonde immigrant on the back. 

 

“But we’ll never be free,” Antonio said, green eyes sparkling. “No, we will never be truly free until those in bondage have the same right as you and me.” 

 

Alfred clapped his hands together and gave a large whoot in response. He too didn’t like the fact that slaves were still in bondage. He wished them free. They deserved to be free. Alfred hoped he and Antonio could begin to make that a reality. Alfred winked back at his friend, new fire fueling in his stomach, as the other flushed lightly. It made Antonio’s freckles stand out. 

 

“You and I. Do or die. Just wait till sally in on a stallion with the first all black battalion. Boys, have another shot.” Antonio finished cheekily, and plopped back into his seat. 

 

Kiku, who was sitting nearby, came into the conversation looking disgruntled. “Geniuses, please lower your voices.” Burr spoke genially. “Keep quiet about this, and you’ll double your choices. I understand you, and I’m with you but the situation is fraught, minna-san. You’ve got to be carefully taught: if you talk you’re going to get shot.” 

 

Alfred rolled his eyes, got up from his seat, and walked to Burr. He placed his arm around the man’s shoulder, and grinned defiantly. 

 

“Burr, check what we got,” 

 

Alfred gestured his hand to his new friends, who all assumed different poses. Francis flexed his arm, and winked flirtily at them; Gilbert showed off his pants for some reason, and Antonio just stood there with a confused smile on his face. Alfred held back a sigh. They had done what he wanted but it wasn’t exactly what he had hoped. Oh well, he was going to have to make do. 

 

“Mister Lafayette is hard rock like Lancelot,” Here Francis giggled, and flexed his arm again. “I think your pants look hot, Mulligan,” Gilbert grinned at this, and placed his hands on his hips. “Laurens, I like you alot…” Antonio’s face colored a smidge and Alfred made sure he didn’t freak out over the cuteness that was Antonio Laurens. God, that man was going to be the death of him. 

 

“Your point, Alfred-san?” Kiku inquired. 

 

“My point is that we can’t keep quiet about this. We need to hatch a plot blacker than a kettle calling the pot… Burr, what are the odds the gods would put us all here, in this spot? Us, a bunch a revolutionary manumission abolitionist? We’re all willing to fight in this war, for freedom, just give us a position and show me where the ammunition is!” 

 

Silence ascended around the tavern. Alfred blinked and looked around; some people were watching him with avid interest, while a handful were glaring at him. He glared right back. He looked to his new friends and locked eyes with Antonio, who walked towards him. Antonio placed his arm around Alfred’s shoulder and pulled his away from Burr. Alfred glanced around hesitantly. 

 

“Oh, I am I talking to loud?” Alfred murmured. He scratched his head, embarrassed. “I… Sometimes I get over excited and shoot off at the mouth.” He peered up at Antonio. “I’ve never actually had a group of friends before, but I promise I’ll make y’all proud.” 

 

Antonio just smirked. “Let’s get you in front of a crowd.” 

 

Most of the tavern hurrahed, while Francis and Gilbert grabbed a crate and placed it by Alfred’s feet. Meanwhile, Antonio released Hamilton from his grasp and went around the pub, hauling people onto their feet, repeating “when are these colonies gonna rise up?”. The people danced and reiterated the phrase, “rise up” as they joyfully screamed for revolution. Alfred beamed unsure at the commotion. 

 

There were many times Alfred imagined death, so much in fact, it felt more like a memory. He always wondered when it was going to claim him. On his feet? Seven feet ahead of him? If he ever sees it coming, did he run from his death or just let it be? Was it like a beat without a melody? Alfred looked down at his hands, the sames hands that wrote his own deliverance to the colonies. It was miracle he even made it so far. He had always thought he would never live past twenty because back on the islands, some only got half as many. He clenched his hands, feeling strong. 

 

Alfred took a stand on top of the crate, and the tavern’s volume decreased. 

 

“If you ask us why we’re living fast, we’ll laugh, and reach for a flask. We’ll want to make our moment’s last before things drastically change because that’d be plenty for us, right? Scratch that!” Alfred commanded the room. “This is not a moment, it’s the movement. I ask everyone, where are all the hungriest American’s with something prove? Where did they go? Foes will oppose us but we must take an honest stand. We gotta roll like Moses, and claim our promise land.” Alfred outstretched his arm. “And if we win our independence, is that a guaranteed freedom for our children? Or will the blood we shed in this war begin an endless cycle of vengeance and death?” 

 

The tavern people around him and his crate rallied, fist pumping in agreeance with his words. Alfred nodded his head. “I know the action in the street is exciting, but Jesus! Between all the bleeding and fighting, I’ve been reading and writing. We need to handle our financial situation. Are we a nation of states? What’s the state of our nation?” Alfred demanded. Everyone made noises, and Alfred’s new friends were the loudest of the crowd, with their loud chanting. “Well, I’m past patiently waiting. I’m past passionately smashing every expectation, and every action is an act of creation! I’m laughing in the face of casualties and sorrow. For the first time, I’m thinking past tomorrow.” 

 

“AND HE IS NOT THROWING AWAY HIS SHOT!” Antonio, Francis, and Gilbert all shouted in unison. Everyone yelled back the phrase, clinking glasses together and celebrating. Alfred stood, stunned on his crate, with a expression of wonder plastered on his face.He jumped off the box and went to his friends, who shoved a Sam Adams in his hands. In the midst of their post-haze from the speech, nobody noticed Kiku Burr slip away into the night.  

 

* * *

 

It was late into the night when the Tavern began to clear out. However, Alfred was still there with his new found best friends. They claimed he made up the last part of the revolutionary set and he couldn’t be part of any other squad, whatever that meant. Gilbert was completely drunk by this point and kept flirting with a nearby chair. Needless to say, Francis was laughing and kept repeating how he was never going to let Mulligan live this down. 

 

“Alfred,” Antonio rested his head on Alfred’s shoulder. “How much did I drink tonight?” 

 

“I have no idea.” Alfred laughed at his friend, and he patted Antonio’s fluffy hair.

 

Antonio let out a groan, and slumped again his chair, pulling his cup to his chest. Alfred held in a laugh. His friend looked like a child, especially with the pout on his face. Hamilton turned his attention to his french companion and watched as he got Gilbert to sit back down, and drink some water. Francis gave an exasperated look to Alfred, who laughed loudly as Gilbert began to tell Francis how pretty he was. 

 

Looking at his friends, Alfred wanted nothing more than to have these fun moments in his life forever. That was if he survived the war... 

 

“I may not live to our glory,” Alfred spoke softly. The other three looked at him in confusion and slight concern. “But I will gladly join the fight, and when our children tell our story… boys, they’ll tell the story of tonight.” 

 

“Let’s have another round tonight.” Gilbert declared, looking wistful.  

 

“Oui, let’s have another round.” Francis agreed. He stood and grabbed the nearest bottle of liquor from the bar counter. Francis had bought the bottle sometime during the night. Anyway, he poured the remaining liquid in their cups and looked around expectantly. 

 

Antonio raised his glass. “Raise a glass to freedom, something they can never take away, no matter what they tell you.” he said. The other three raised their glass, and they clinked it against each other. “Raise a glass to four of us.” 

 

“Tomorrow, there’ll be more of us,” Gilbert said with a drawn-out sing-song. “Telling the story of tonight.” 

 

“Yeah, they’ll tell the story of tonight.” Alfred grinned, and raised his glass up again. They all drank their glasses to the very last drop, and set their cups aside. Francis stood up, and collected their empty cups, returning them to the bar.

 

“It’s time to return home, mes amies.” Francis said. 

 

“But I don’t want to get up,” Antonio moaned, suddenly clinging onto Alfred. He climbed into Alfred’s lap and proceeded to nuzzle him.The Caribbean-born man tensed under the hold, and awkwardly patted the freckled man’s head. Alfred looked helplessly to his companions, who just laughed at his predicament. 

 

“Just carry him out,” Francis told him. “We’re all going to mon maison, you all are sleeping at me? With me?” 

 

“...you’re getting it, Francis. Don’t worry about it,” Alfred hauled Antonio into a piggy back.

 

“Merci, Alfred.” Francis sighed. He went to Gilbert and helped the man from his chair. 

 

The Revolutionary set staggered out of the pub. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Oui: yes  
> mon ami: my friend  
> minna-san: everyone  
> mes amies: my friends  
> mon maison: my house


End file.
